Aftermath Thoughts from the Hospital Wing
by Jammie-Bro
Summary: Post OOTP thoughts from Ron's Point of View. FLUFF- much alike the stuff you get from cotton wool...


Post OOTP Thoughts- A little something to get over writer's Block  
  
By Jammie-Bro  
  
Ron Weasley sat silently in Hogwarts' Hospital wing. He was in the last days of his fifth year, was tall, freckled and had bright orange hair and blue eyes. Although he was a wizard (and a trainee one at that) it didn't mean injuries would miraculously disintergrate. He had been badly hit with a LauneVerstand curse, and accumulated a broken rib in last night's fight.  
  
Yes, the fight. Some had named it "the ongoing good against evil battle"- The war between Harry Potter and the dark Lord Voldemort.  
  
Harry Potter. Ron's best friend.  
  
He had remembered only vauge flashes of the previous night, as everything had seemed to go by in a flash. But one thing was grimly clear in the aftermath; One of their number was dead. All of them felt solemnly guilty- if only they had cast different spells, managed to dodge the ones they were hit with..-  
  
But no. There was a dark stone in Ron's stomach which wordlessly told him that he still would have probably died, despite all the if only's.  
  
Someone once told him that everyhting happened for a significant reason. Thinking about it, the person who was most likely to have told him that was his older brother, Percy. But now he had disowned himself, turned his back on his own family to reap and writhe in his ambition with the head honchos at the ministry of Magic. Ron didn't know what to believe anymore.  
  
As he looked up, his eyes tired and weary with his brains' over- anylysing, his heart felt like it moved around a little in his chest. Hermione was still unconcious. Ron let out an agonised sigh. If only he'd not been hit by that spell.... Another 'if only'. He felt awful. He hadnt been there to protect her- she could have died too, for God's sake! And he would have been giggling on the floor like he'd taken too much helium. That's all he could remember after being hit. Laughing. What a stupid thing to do. It disgusted him just to think about it. He would have rather been knocked out than be the useless bit of goo rolling around the floor in hysterics.  
  
Ron glanced around the hospital wing, at the people inhabiting it. Ginny was sleeping, her shin downwards bound in plaster, Luna- also unconcious- but Ron really couldnt give a flying monkey about her- Harry was heaven knows where, neville had left the wing almost immediately after being treated only for a broken nose, and himself. He was covered in what seemed like indented burns- but it looked like somebody had wrapped red ribbons on every part of his body except his face. There were red marks adorning his chest, arms, legs and as far up as his neck. He was only wearing a pair of shorts because the burns itched too much to have any other clothes on.  
  
He looked over at the bed opposite to him, a different kind of pain written on his face. Hermione looked really bad- pale, attached to some sort of strange machine and not seeming to be getting any better. Ron clambered across and sat on the side of her bed. It was like she had been petrified again, and he was just waiting for her to wake up. That's what he was hoping, anyway. He had overheard Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall talking. They didnt know what spell she had been hit with; so they had no idea what to treat her for. If they gave her the wrong medicine, she would almost certainly die. So it was beginning to appear that they were looking for a miracle.  
  
Moonlight streaked through the uncurtained windows, highlighting her whitened face. Ron smiled to himself sadly: even when she was in such an awful condition, she looked like she was sleeping, and, in Ron's opinion, still was beautiful.  
  
He hadn't slept very well for the last couple of nights- he'd always ended up there, at her bedside, talking to her as if she was awake and listening. It was like his strand of hope and sanity that he was desperately clinging on to, pretending that she was okay. Ron knew if he went down the other road he'd end up in tears; and he had promised himself a long time ago that he would never cry. But his eyes were welling slightly as he stroked her cheek- that was still quite cold, and wondering if he'd ever see her brown eyes open again. He was determined that when she woke up he was going to tell her. He was going to open his mouth and say it like it was just a normal thing to say, like "how are you feeling today?" or something along those lines. He was going to tell her. And then she would know the answer to all her questions. He smiled.  
  
"you can take as long as you want, 'mione, but when you wake up I've got something to tell you." He whispered to the deeply sleeping girl, then grinned to himself. Anyone listening would think he was a madman.  
  
For a while, Ron sat and gazed out of the windows. The moon and stars twinkled as the teen remembered a fairy story told to him when he was very young. His mother had said it was magical. *But surely..... no, it wouldnt work. It couldnt. it was absurd*. *But*, ron thought as he glanced back at her unmoving form, *it might work.*  
  
Gathering up his courage, he slowly leaned down and met her lips briefly. Although her lips were soft and sweet and all things they should be, she felt cold and remote. It was over as soon as it had begun. Her eyes remained closed- ron was beginning to forget what colour her eyes actually were. He turned away from her in pure annoyance with himself- common sense had told him that it wouldnt work. He had just thought, for a fleeting moment, that maybe magic stretched beyond the borders of waving a wand and saying some gobbldygook words. But he was probably wrong.  
  
Ron suddenly felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and whirled around. He was met with a pair of beautiful brown eyes and a smiling face. He smiled back. He was about to tell her when he found a familiar pair of lips were kissing his, but this time they definately weren't cold and remote.  
  
Maybe he was right about magic.  
  
~*~  
  
Fin  
  
Authors' Notes: Yes, I know it's VERY cliche and corny, and about 1100 people have probably written the exact same plotline, but i was bored, needed to get over writers block etc. Do you like cliche fluff? please tell. a yes or no will do very nicely, but if you put more that will make my day. please. click at the bottom. thanx v. much. 


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